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at the four closely written sheets, and a faint smilethe first in three daystwitched his lips. It had taken some time to compose and no little time to make five copies. She must have started on this very soon after he had raged out of Roselynde. |
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"What said your mistress?" Ian asked. |
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"To ride in haste, lord, which I did, and then to do further as you bid me." |
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"There was no other matter? No letter?" |
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"What you have was what was given to me, my lord." |
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It was a stupid question, Ian knew. Naturally the messenger would have given him everything. Alinor was still angry, then. Ian glanced down at the contracts, reluctant to start reading. If she wanted to be rid of him, she could have written in clauses that he could not accept. His refusal to sign could be taken as a formal withdrawal of his offer of marriage. |
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"Take what rest you can," he said to the messenger. "You will need to ride again later." |
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Hellcat, Ian thought, realizing she had him in a cleft stick. The flash of rage, the determination to beat her at her own game and have her still, gave Ian the impetus to begin reading. He flashed through the document, sure that the temptation to withdraw his offer would be displayed prominently. There was nothing of the kind. A feeling that he had perhaps been unjust, balanced by a fear that Alinor was willing to marry him but intended somehow to tie his hands, set him to reading again, one word at a time, very carefully. |
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The second reading completed, Ian tilted his stool back against the wall again and pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. Hellcat, he thought again, but this time with fond admiration. Too proud to beg pardon, that was why she had not written or sent a message. The contract was all the apology he would ever get. And I am more than content, he decided. After all, if Alinor |
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